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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288613">Starling Coffee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321'>janto321 (FaceofMer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Developing Relationship, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Making Out</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:42:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft was uncertain what to expect when Greg opened a coffeeshop below his flower shop.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Starling Coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Change came slowly to this quiet street. The Holmes family had owned this building for generations. Mycroft had taken over the second-floor flower shop from a cousin fifteen years earlier. Uncle Thomas owned the bookshop on the first floor. Mycroft lived in a flat on the third floor, the other flat and only other tenant being Great-Aunt Charlotte, who had lived there since the War and was not going to be moved until she passed peacefully in her bed. Which at this rate would be at some point north of a hundred years old.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a quiet, steady life and one Mycroft enjoyed. Most of the people who came into his shop were folks that knew he was there and had been coming for years, supplemented with visits from their children and a few odd visitors who found the place by word of mouth. There was a narrow door at the street and a steep staircase, but only a small sign showed his presence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it was a great shock when Uncle Thomas announced that he was closing his shop, and, what was more, he was going to be renting the space to a stranger. "Are you sure there isn't someone who could simply take it over?" asked Mycroft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uncle Thomas patted his arm. "It will be good I think to have some fresh blood around here. There's a nice young man I've got in mind."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft couldn't imagine anyone else in that place, but still, when the time came he dutifully helped Uncle Thomas move out most of his remaining books, leaving a couple of shelves stocked with books for the new tenant. Uncle Thomas told him that the young man was going to be turning it into a coffee shop. As if the city needed more of those.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The storefront only stood empty for a few days before Mycroft saw a truck pull up into the narrow back alley and start unloading all the tables and chairs and accouterments that a small coffee shop would need. A customer needed his attention, so he turned away before he could determine who the owner was, but he could hear them moving around downstairs, some rock music playing quietly as they worked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For about a week, they worked on the new shop. Mycroft listened to them moving around, building a few things, installing things. He waited until nightfall and after he closed up for the night before venturing downstairs to look at the new storefront.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plain sign out front named the place Starling Coffee. A light was on in the back room, but otherwise the place was dark. New tables waited for customers. The freshly built counter held a few cakes and treats behind glass. It looked ordinary in a way that made Mycroft relax. He'd much rather have a simple neighborhood coffee shop downstairs than something festooned with loud signage and louder music. He thought he saw some movement in the back room, but then it was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Early the next morning Mycroft prepared a few green plants and a fresh bouquet of flowers festooned with red peonies for luck. Just because he was uncertain about the new neighbor didn't mean he had to be rude. He put everything in a box and headed down the stairs. The closed sign was still up but he could see someone doing a final wipe down of the counter. Mycroft knocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man looked up and Mycroft was surprised at just how handsome he was. He encountered his fair share of people in his line of work, but something about the man's silver hair and warm brown eyes made Mycroft’s breath catch. Foolish, really. The man looked at him a moment, then came over to the door, opening it just a crack. "I didn't order any flowers," he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know," said Mycroft. "I'm your upstairs neighbor and I've got a flower shop. I thought you might like some for decoration. Consider it a housewarming gift."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man broke into a warm smile. "That's very kind of you. Come in. I'm Greg Lestrade." He stepped back to let Mycroft in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mycroft Holmes," said Mycroft, putting down his box on a table and offering his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg shook firmly. "Thomas said there was family in the building. I'm afraid I haven't had time to investigate."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, it's only me and Great-Aunt Charlotte. You won't see much of her. Barely leaves her flat. I have a shop on the second floor and a flat on the third." Mycroft mentally wondered why he was telling Greg where he lived, but too late now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"These are wonderful," said Greg, investigating the box. "Thank you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're welcome. Feel free to come upstairs anytime."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I make you a coffee?" asked Greg, moving back behind the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, I suppose I should try your wares," said Mycroft. "Whatever you think I might like."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg gave him a critical look, then turned to his equipment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft took the opportunity to put out the living plants into places where they'd get the right amount of light, putting the cut bouquet on the counter last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here you go," said Greg, offering him a steaming cup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft took it and carefully sipped it. "Oh, that is delightful."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg gave him that wide grin again. "Glad you like it. House specialty. I'm officially opening up tomorrow, just waiting for the wifi to get set up this afternoon."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I suppose that is a requirement in this day and age," said Mycroft. He saw a customer pause in front of his small sign. "Seems I need to go, good luck with the opening."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hope you come by and see us," said Greg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come up yourself if you get a chance," said Mycroft, taking his cup and heading out to greet the customer and assure him he was in the right place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft had a few more customers the next day as people discovering the coffee shop also spotted the flower shop's sign. It kept him busy enough that he completely failed to go downstairs, though one of his regulars brought him a cup as a treat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few days were largely the same, but finally, after four days, Mycroft made it back downstairs again. Greg was just locking up, but he smiled and let Mycroft in anyway. "Good evening," Mycroft said, deftly taking the flowers from the counter and replacing them with fresh ones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg chuckled and went behind the counter to make Mycroft something to drink. "Good evening. Been busy. We'll see how it goes once the novelty wears off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll develop regulars," said Mycroft. "I'm sure it's good to be busy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, it is. I know this is a well-established neighborhood, but that's part of why I wanted to open this here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I must admit I had some misgivings when Uncle Thomas told me he was closing up and renting, but I may have been mistaken."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg smiled at him, tiredness at the corner of his eyes. "Thank you for giving me a chance."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're welcome." Mycroft took his drink and sipped it. "Have you had a chance to look around the neighborhood?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I've been here before, that's how I knew Thomas. But I haven't had a chance to look at it like a local, if that's what you mean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft looked at him, hesitated, then decided to take a leap. "Would you like to go to dinner?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg's smile got even brighter, if that was possible. "Yes, I think I would."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good, I know an excellent place just a short walk from here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You finish your drink and I'll finish tidying up and we can go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft took Greg to a quiet Greek place only a few blocks away. Over the meal he learned that Greg had met Uncle Thomas while he was a student and had kept in touch over the years. He'd worked as a police officer for many years but an injury had led to early retirement, which, luckily for him, coincided with Thomas looking to take up his own retirement and a convenient arrangement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you miss the police work?" asked Mycroft.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, sometimes. You don't do a job for almost twenty years and not miss it. But it was either retirement or I'd be stuck behind a desk and that sounded worse."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft looked at his food. "I can somewhat understand. I had a government job before the flower shop, but I was forced out." He stabbed his fork with unnecessary vigor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened?" asked Greg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft took a breath and looked up at him. "I was outed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg frowned. "That's not on. They fired you for it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was deemed a security risk. Much like yourself, I could have been moved into something much less fulfilling, but it seemed wiser to simply walk away."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg reached over and covered his hand with his own. "Still, I'm sorry. I know things are better now, then when we were young, but there's still problems."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft looked at his hand. "Are you...?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I like both," Greg shrugged. "Was married for a while, but she cheated and we divorced. This shop is a chance to start over in more than one way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft picked up his glass and offered a toast. "Here's to new beginnings."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg smiled. "New beginnings."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that, it started to become routine for Mycroft to come down after closing time, sometimes carrying flowers or other plants. The front of Greg's shop started to look very green. Usually, Greg had a drink ready by the time he arrived. They'd sit and talk and then perhaps go out for dinner, though Greg begged off a few times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple weeks after they started the routine, Mycroft asked Greg to come upstairs for dinner. "You've given me enough coffee, I can certainly feed you a meal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright," said Greg, following him out and locking the door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft was starting to have suspicions about where Greg was living, but kept that to himself as he led him up the stairs, past the flower shop and onto the third floor. "That is Great-Aunt Charlotte's door. Mine is here," he said, unlocking and opening it up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The place was fairly small and neat. The front room contained a sofa facing a television that was nearly an antique. Under the window was a desk with a computer on it. To the left was a tiny kitchen with something bubbling away in a slow cooker and a table pushed up against one wall. Beyond that was a short hallway with two doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Great-Aunt Charlotte's place takes up most of this floor. They essentially carved this flat out of it about forty years ago."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's snug," said Greg. "I like it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's home," said Mycroft. "Make yourself comfortable." He went into the kitchen and pulled out bowls and a bag of salad from the fridge, put down stew and a salad in front of Greg and took his own seat. "It's not as good as elsewhere, but I hope you'll like it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure it will be fine," said  Greg, taking a taste. He smiled. "Yep, no complaints at all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft visibly relaxed. "Thank you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door. Mycroft frowned and got to his feet. Nobody ever came to his door. To his surprise Great-Aunt Charlotte was on the doorstep, leaning on her cane. "I thought you and your gentleman friend might like a bottle of wine," she said .</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft blinked a few times. "Thank you," he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're welcome. I'm going to bed. Remember, I'm a heavy sleeper so don't worry about making too much noise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft stared at her as she shuffled across the hallway and vanished into her own flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg laughed as Mycroft slowly closed the door behind her. "Never underestimate your older relatives," he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Indeed," said Mycroft, inspecting the bottle. "And this is a very good bottle of wine." He went into the kitchen and fetched a corkscrew, passing it to Greg before turning for a couple of glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh that is a good year," said Greg, getting the bottle open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She always has had good taste." Mycroft carried the glasses over. Greg poured the wine and they settled in to eat, making comfortable small talk and enjoying the wine. After they ate, they moved to the couch, drinking more of the wine, settling in. Greg's hand came to rest on Mycroft's knee. Mycroft moved a little closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt right when Greg leaned in and kissed him gently. He tasted like wine and promise. Mycroft moaned softly and deepened the kiss, nearly climbing into Greg's lap. Greg chuckled and settled him there, holding his hips gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kisses became unhurried. Mycroft looped his arms around Greg's neck. Time lost meaning, all that existed was the warm press of Greg's lips and the strength of his hands on Mycroft's body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A car honked somewhere nearby, startling them out of the moment. Greg leaned his head against Mycroft's shoulder, breathing heavily. "I must admit I don't want to leave."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft ran fingers through his hair. "Come to bed? We don't have to do anything but sleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright," said Greg, giving him a smile and one more kiss. Mycroft held his hand and led him into his bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you have something I can sleep in?" asked Greg. "Or should I just be in my boxers?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Your boxers are fine," said Mycroft, shucking his own clothes and pulling on a soft t-shirt. They settled into bed and Mycroft fell asleep safe in Greg's arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alarm roused Mycroft at what was surely an ungodly hour. He groaned and reached over to slap it off, wondering at his head a moment before he felt movement in his bed. Ah. Right. Greg was here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg rubbed his eyes and smiled at Mycroft, leaning up to give him a kiss. "How is your head?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I could dearly do with some coffee," Mycroft admitted. The kiss was nice, and he was glad that it wasn't just the wine that made Greg want to kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell you what. You throw together something for breakfast, I'll sneak downstairs and fix us some coffee."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Very well, but you'll want to put on pants before you scandalize the neighborhood."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg chuckled and rolled ungracefully out of bed, reaching for his trousers. "Be right back."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that, Greg seemed to find his way upstairs more often than not. Only two weeks after that first night, Mycroft pulled Greg aside and gave him a kiss. "I know you're living out of your back room. Why don't you just move in upstairs?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Are you sure? I don't want to put you out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Positive," said Mycroft, handing him a key. "Can I help you move?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I might just insist on it," said Greg. "I don't want to mess up your things."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Greg, you're the best mess I could ask for in my life," said Mycroft, stealing one more kiss and then heading towards Greg's back room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft helped Greg gather up his things. It took a few trips, but in the end, Greg occupied half the closet and a few of his other belongings found their way into other corners of the flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg’s waist and kissed his throat. “Feels rather like you belong here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think maybe we both needed this," said Greg, turning in his arms and kissing him properly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mycroft kissed him back, feeling that this coffee shop moving in downstairs had been the best thing that could have ever happened.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Much thanks to astudyinfic for sparking this idea, and for beltainefaerie for reading it over.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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